Heiwa Rirī (平和リリー)
by Sakura Hyuga
Summary: "If reincarnation was real, I'd like to come back as a wildflower." . . . I fought the urge to bang my head against the nearest surface as I stared at the face of sunflower child Sawamura Eijun . . . Yeah, no. I was so not prepared for this. SI! Sawamura Eijun
1. Chapter 1

_To be honest, I don't have much memories of_ Before _. Not much at all._

 _I couldn't remember my appearance, nor even my gender. I could not recall my parents, because no matter how hard I tried I felt nothing but a brief burst of fondness and longing in my chest._

 _And perhaps most horribly of all, I couldn't even remember my own name._

 _(_ Beep . . . Beep . . . _)_

 _But I could remember the tears._

 _I could remember wrenching sobs and a shaking hand carding through my hair. I could remember the soothing classical music playing from a music player._

 _(_ Beep― . . . _)_

 _And I could remember the_ pain _._

 _I could remember the intense, bone-crushing pain that seared through my body. I could remember how my limbs burned with the ferocity of a thousand suns, how my head pounded in tandem with my heart and how everything_ hurt _._

 _I could remember―_

 _._

 _._

 _._

* * *

Light. That was the first thing I became aware of.

A bright, blinding flash of light that left a permanent glare in my retinas. And just as suddenly as it came, the brightness disappeared before fuzzy sounds began to slowly flicker into existence.

I blinked up at the hazy image of the smiling doctor standing beside me, pen poised over his clipboard as he asked me questions in a soothing tone. Behind him, the nurses were in a flurry as they rushed around checking my heart monitor and IV drip.

". . . Eijun-kun! How do you feel? You finally woke up after . . ."

* * *

― _I couldn't remember how I died._

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

.

.

.

"Ei-chan?"

My eyes flickered open slowly, sleep still determined in sneaking its tendrils into my lethargic limbs. Reaching up lazily, I gave my crusted eyes a good rub before I deemed myself moderately awake and thus capable of looking up.

"Mm?"

A gentle smile played on the lips of my aunt as she leaned closer and tousled my hair. Pouting at the childish treatment I was receiving, I playfully swatted her hands away before throwing my covers off and stretching.

"Good morning, Auntie!" I said enthusiastically, even as I suppressed a yawn. My aunt cheerfully responded before she left my bedroom, leaving me to do the duty of making myself presentable for company.

Bounding swiftly off my bed, I shivered slightly when my feet touched the cool floor. Why was it so cold already? Sighing softly, I quickly fished out my slippers before making my way to the wash room to begin my ritual of freshening up.

Turning on the sink, I rinsed my toothbrush before looking up. And like every time this had happened before, time itself seemed to stop as I took in the foreign face staring back at me on the other side of the mirror.

Fluffy brown hair, a shade or two lighter than dark chocolate. Much lighter coloured eyes, almost caramel in the shade and a pretty amber in sunlight. Round cheeks still laden with baby fat and a sweet smile.

 _Male_.

Was this really me? Or was I actually another soul stuck in an innocent child's body?

"Ei-chan!" My aunt called. "Wakana-chan is here already!"

Blanching, all my thoughts were swept out of my mind as I immediately began brushing my teeth. Making Wakana wait meant a world of pain and nagging that I was definitely not ready for so early in the morning. Quickly finishing up and giving my hair a speedy comb, I changed into my uniform before rushing downstairs.

"Sorry Wakana-san!" I yelped as I skidded to a stop in front of her, ignoring my aunt's soft giggle as she handed me my bento box and my backpack.

Wakana, my supposed best friend, rolled her eyes ―hiding the slight pain that had resurfaced when I had addressed her so formally― before dragging me outside to a whole gaggle of boys who stood waiting on the stairs. Before long, I was dragged into a loud conversation with everyone as we amiably chatted on our walk to school.

. . . It was fun, and it felt _normal_.

I couldn't have thanked them enough.

* * *

My name was Sawamura Eijun. I was eight, lived in Nagano, and a student of Akagi Elementary.

I also had amnesia. Apparently, I was a victim of a car crash three months ago, and only woke up after a two month coma.

.

.

.

 _Everything felt so familiar, but also so foreign. I just didn't understand._

 _Were they familiar because some level of my subconscious could still remember some of my memories? That was the most probable answer._

 _But no, it didn't feel right . . ._

 _My gut clenched._

 _That wasn't the answer, because it just wasn't_ right _._

 _._

 _._

 _._

A coma and a concussion. That was all I had been inflicted with. I had no broken bones, nor any damaged organs.

In that aspect, I was way luckier than my 'parents'. After all, they never woke up . . . and were now buried six feet under.

After I woke up, it began a swirl of official documents and suited lawyers. My . . . mother's ― _was she really my mother?_ ― younger twin sister, my Auntie, was the one who ended up taking me in. She grieved terribly for her twin, and her husband had totally supported her idea of adopting me.

I was grateful to them. Auntie Sawamura was sweet and kind. Uncle Sawamura looked scary at first glance (because I mean look at his _hair_ ) but he was a softie too.

Grandpa was the best though. He was the only one, save Wakana, who never seemed as if he was walking on eggshells when he interacted with me. Because by now, the whole of Nagano knew of Sawamura Apple Farm's new amnesic child. Even strangers I meet on the streets treated me as if they were talking to fragile glass! It was almost infuriating.

". . . so maybe . . . Eijun?"

Snapping out of my thoughts, I looked up to see Wakana staring at me, looking a smidge concerned. On the other hand, Nobu and everyone else were already flitting around me, looking like worried headless chickens.

Resisting the urge to sigh, I gave them a small grin. "Sorry, what did you say?"

Wakana's eyebrows furrowed, but after a glance between my straining smile and our friends' increasingly frantic hand flails, the girl seemed to have decided to give me a break.

"I was telling you about baseball. You really wanted to try it before! And the doctor said you can go back to physical activities in a month or two . . ."

I blinked as I listened to Wakana's enthusiastic chatter. Hmm.

Baseball, huh?

Again, it was something that felt both foreign but familiar to me. On one hand, music ―for some reason― called to me while I didn't have much interest in any sports. On the other, my limbs felt like they were shaking in anticipation ever since Wakana started on this topic.

So . . . should I do baseball or music?

Nobu laughed as his eyes shone, gesturing widely to me as he did an imitation of a 'pitcher'. All around me, my sweet and understanding friends looked unbelievably happy and passionate as they shouted out the positions they wanted and how they couldn't wait to bring their 'Ace' to the mound.

But . . .

 _Soft classical music wafted through the air. Violin, it was a weeping violin that was tugging my heart strings_ ―

. . . Well, I was currently a blank canvas. I could add 'greedy' to my lacklustre personality, couldn't I?

"Then when I'm allowed to, let's make a baseball team, guys!" I said with a big smile as I watched my friends cheer.

Because really, why would I have to pick between two things that both made me happy?

* * *

"Good job, Eijun-kun! So, do you like the new fingering or . . ."

I started violin lessons that very week. Uncle Sawamura was ecstatic when I said I wanted music lessons, though he had deflated a bit when he realized I wanted to learn the violin and not rock and roll singing.

Auntie Sawamura cooed over me happily at my sudden interest while Grandpa looked a bit disbelieving and very much sceptical. However, it wasn't long before I was in Nagano's largest music store, picking out my three-quarters violin.

Coincidentally, the manager of the store was a violin teacher and just happened to be in the store that day. After helping me with the long and tedious task of picking out a violin, he offered music lessons at a discounted price ―mostly because of the cost of the violin I wanted.

(And let's just say it was _expensive_. Uncle had paled and Grandpa looked almost unwilling before he caved under the combined pouts of me and Auntie.

. . . In any case, I still felt guilty.)

"It's good," I said with a small smile, my fingers already soundlessly flitting across the fingerboard again.

On the bright side, I took to violin like a fish to water. Breezing through the beginner grades, I left everyone amazed at how fast I picked the instrument up. But it all felt so natural, almost as if I have played the delicate violin for _years_.

― _Was this really me? Or was I actually another soul stuck in an innocent child's body?_ ―

And as for my other interest, well . . .

As soon as the doctor gave me the okay, my friends dragged me to the nearest sports store. Each of us began buying equipment and some baseball books, and it wasn't long before we were trying out our new toys.

"Eijun, catch!"

I was the pitcher.

Spinning around, I grabbed the sloppily thrown ball out of the air with only minimal difficulty.

And I _loved_ it.

I loved the wind in my hair as I go through my wind-up. I loved the feeling of the ball in my hand, and the rush of adrenaline as I snapped back my wrist to send the ball flying.

And I especially loved the satisfying _smack_ the baseball made as it ended up in my catcher's mitt.

. . . Granted, that didn't happen much. My control was absolutely atrocious, and according to all my friends who attempted to catch for me, the ball seemed to move randomly even after it left my hand.

 _Moving ball, moving ball . . . now why did that sound so familiar?_

But we had fun together. Our small school supported us fully, even though our team lost almost every single match. I became the _ever reliable_ Captain (Wakana, our manager, had a good laugh over this) of the small team and despite all the losses, I was happy.

We were _happy_.

* * *

Years passed.

One year, two.

Three years, five.

At fourteen, I had a lithe figure. Puberty served me well, though I still wasn't the tallest guy on the block. On the other hand, due to my laziness I rarely cut my hair and just left it long. Now, brown silky locks cascaded down my back, though I always braided it so my hair would never bother me during training. To my displeasure though, the baby fat hadn't disappeared from my cheeks and my eyes were big and as childish as ever.

Put that all together and I could probably pass as a girl. Or at least an effeminate guy.

As I grew older, I became extremely good at playing violin, to the point where my violin teacher wondered if I was a genius. My grades also became impeccable, much to the surprise of my friends; apparently I had never been good at school before my . . . _accident_. Now however, I didn't even need to study and I could do most tests without any struggles.

As for baseball . . .

My friends, well, they didn't become much better at baseball. For all their enthusiasm, I soon learned that they were only so enthusiastic because of _me_ , because of how much _I_ had loved the sport.

I truly had the greatest friends ever.

But though I began to steadily improve as the pitcher, it meant nothing as my team-mates continued to fumble with the ball. We still lost every single match, despite all my poor friends' best efforts.

I didn't really mind losing, though. It was fun playing with my friends, and I was already happy enough to be able to play baseball in the first place. I looked forward to playing with my friends in high school, and who knows? Maybe we would get better enough to make a stand in the tournaments.

But then, in the cusp of my final year in middle school, everything changed.

And unknown to me at the time, it all started with Akagi Baseball Team's last official game and my last pitch as their wayward Captain.

* * *

". . ."

I stared.

A pretty lady with glasses was sitting at our table.

. . . That was not something that happened every single day.

"Um, hello there!" I said loudly as I gave a stiff bow. "Are you looking for my parents? I could go and get them if you want―"

"Sawamura Eijun," Pretty Glasses Lady said sharply. Immediately my next words died a quick death on my tongue.

"U-Um, yes?"

"Nice to meet you," Scary Lady said with a wide smile as she slid forward a business card. "I am Takashima, the assistant coach of the Seidou High School Baseball Club."

. . .

Seidou? Wait, that sounded _really_ familiar . . .

"The other day, I watched the match with Narushima Junior High, and it seems to me that you have unusual untapped potential."

My mind blanked. Wait a minute, was I actually getting _scouted_? Sawamura Eijun, getting scouted by Seidou High School? Seidou High School . . .

 _Wait a moment_. Wasn't Seidou―

"Seidou will love to have you, Sawamura-kun."

―part of that famous baseball manga I used to read? Come to think of it, wasn't the protagonist of that manga named Sawamura Eijun . . .?

I stared at the pretty lady, Takashima _Rei_ , with wide eyes.

Oh _shit_.

How did I miss this for over five years?!

* * *

 **AN: This was supposed to be for the Self Insert Week, but well, this didn't happen in time lmao.**

 **I've rarely seen any SI!fics in the DnA fandom, so I wanted to try my hand at one. The SI in this fic used to be a top university student who had a passion for violin. As Eijun, however, he won't remember much of his past life except for the skills he learned and the plot for Daiya no Ace. If anything, it could be a 'Eijun who can tell the future fic' haha. It's crossposted on Ao3!**

 **Please enjoy and leave me your thoughts! /winks/**


	2. Manga Protagonist's First Antagonist

Takashima Rei was a ninja.

(And speaking of ninjas, do you know how glad I was for not being reincarnated in a fighting shounen anime or manga?)

Anyway, I was not joking. Considering the fact that I was currently standing in front of Seidou's gates, that was the only theory I could find acceptable as to how Seidou's assistant coach managed to get me here.

I mean, after I was hit with the sudden epiphany of _who_ I was, and more importantly, exactly _what_ world I was in, I was more than ready to hide in my room and meticulously examine my life as a fictional main character. Taking my time to leisurely have a hysterical break-down didn't sound that bad either.

But no, somehow despite my (very loud) protests, Seidou's recruiter managed to wheedle a visit to Seidou out of me. So here I was, a small country boy at the doors of one of Tokyo's most prestigious of high schools. And boy, Seidou sure lived up to its name well. Huge fields with hundreds of hard-working, sweating baseball players filled my gaze. Even the air itself felt different compared to the air in my home . . . though that may just be because of the city's more polluted landscape.

"Well?" Takashima said with a smile, as if she could tell I was slightly impressed. "We take pride in our baseball facilities here! Off over there is where we practice during the rainy weather, and over half of our players live in our dormitories!"

To be very honest, everything really was quite impressive. But unfortunately for Takashima, I wasn't someone who could be manipulated and swayed that easily. Arranging my slightly surprised face into a completely neutral one, I hummed in disagreement.

"Money should not be the most important thing in playing baseball."

To Takashima's credit, she didn't even twitch at my offhanded accusation. Instead, the woman put on a serious look as she dramatically turned her face to the sky.

"I agree," the recruiter said with pursed lips. "Heart, practice, and talent are. Boys as young as fifteen leave their homes to reach their full strength from the training we provide . . ."

I listened intently as Seidou's assistant coach waxed poetry about their players. To be honest, though I knew it was all just propaganda ―something to lure me in― I was still intrigued. Because from what I could remember of the manga, the students of Seidou really _did_ try extremely hard.

Ever since I had my startling realization as to who I really was, details of the manga I was in became more and more clear. Unfortunately, I hadn't been the biggest fan of the series, but though I couldn't remember everything, I still had a decent recollection of the events that happened in the story.

. . . Great. So either I was really possessing the body of a fictitious manga character, or I had somehow awakened the ability to tell the future. I couldn't even decide which was the lesser evil of the two choices.

Looking down at me again, Takashima finished off her very long speech. ". . . And that is why I respect them. The athletes that carry such determination―!"

"HEY, YOU STUPID PITCHER! WHAT KIND OF COWARDLY PITCH WAS _THAT_? YOU LOOKING DOWN ON ME?"

. . .

Wow, that was awfully on time. Conflict after a cheesy, inspiring moment. Come to think of it, something like this happened quite frequently in my life. How _did_ I never suspect being a protagonist of a story?

. . .

Oh, right. I never suspected anything because back then I had been still under the delusion that I was _normal_.

"That wasn't even good enough for practice! Gimme a livelier throw!"

Turning around, I mentally raised an eyebrow at the truly buff and huge teenager standing in the batter's box, holding his bat tauntingly at a short pitcher. The pitcher himself was puffing for air as he laboriously wiped droplets of sweat from his face.

Though they felt really familiar, no names came to mind. I bit my lower lip as I valiantly tried to remember who these people were.

"I hate them like that! If you're going to be like that, you can't even warm up the bench!" The batter continued to yell.

"Geez, I'm soo _ooo_ sorry," the poor pitcher huffed out sarcastically, his voice almost immediately swallowed by the batter's next bellow.

"IF YOU'RE NOT EVEN GONNA TRY, GO BACK TO YOUR LITTLE FARMHOUSE YOU LITTLE SHIT! I'M LOSING MY EDGE GOING UP AGAINST DILLWEED PITCHERS LIKE YOU!"

This time, my eyebrows furrowed as I observed the scene. So I wasn't the first country boy Seidou had accepted?

Takashima must have seen my disgruntled expression because she immediately started damage control. "Compared to everyone else, that kid's batting really is top-notch. The prideful Kiyokuni Azuma. He hit forty-two home runs in his high school career and is a contender for this year's draft."

Azuma . . . Azuma . . . who was Azuma again?

THWACK!

My head whipped up as my eyes widened, just in time to see this 'Azuma' hit a powerful home run. The beefy boy was shouting at the poor pitcher again, but this time it seemed as if the pitcher had lost all his spirit.

"Somebody throw this guy out of here! Send him and his weak arm back to his village!"

As the batter continued to yell insults at the already defeated pitcher, I felt my hands clench into fists. Why . . . was nobody stepping in? They were all team-mates, weren't they? Heck, why wasn't Takashima stepping in?! This could definitely be considered as bullying!

Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I pondered over my options. Technically, this had nothing to do with me. I was only here as a guest, and if everyone was ignoring this scene with ease then it would be normal if I did it too. In addition, even I knew not to pick a fight with someone so much bigger than me.

But . . .

Could I really just ignore this? The pitcher's slumped and dejected figure, a bully hurling obscenity after obscenity . . .

. . . Yeah, not possible. With a small sigh, I opened my eyes and decided to start my first incident in the very first arc.

"Pro? You can't be serious! It'll save you a load of trouble if you'll just give up now!" Increasing the volume of my voice, I made sure that my words could be heard clearly even from the batter's box. And with the frozen figure of Azuma, I knew I had probably succeeded.

"Hey―!" Takashima hissed as players around us started flailing in fright. If I hadn't been so worried about what would happen next, I would have laughed at how Takashima seemed to have lost her composure the first time since I've met her.

" _W-Who are you *$%#!#_!" Azuma turned around slowly, his face as black as a witch's cauldron.

Stifling the sudden urge to shake like a leaf, I instead crossed my arms haughtily and ignored Takashima's attempts to get me to apologize.

"With your attitude, do you think anyone would honestly draft you?" I asked with a silly laugh, eyes as sharp as broken glass. "To treat even your own team-mates this way . . . ! What team would draft you and chance their team falling apart from internal conflicts?"

Takashima's protests faltered before stopping completely. Even the students around us quieted down, and instead began to stare at me with wide eyes. Taking that as a good sign, I continued my spiel.

"In the end, to me baseball is supposed to be fun!" I said firmly as Azuma stalked toward me angrily. "You can't play this sport by yourself! Or has this famous private school forgotten the most basic of facts?"

If this was a real anime or cartoon, dramatic music would start to play as lightening began to flash between my and Azuma's eyes. Thankfully, my life had not become that crazy yet so there was only a few seconds of tense silence before Takashima made her move.

"Sorry about this, Azuma-kun," the assistant coach said sweetly as she sidled up to Azuma's hulking body. "This kid just left behind all his friends coming here so he doesn't really understand any of this."

My eyes narrowed at her words, but I didn't get a chance to speak before Azuma grinned mockingly.

"Oh?" Azuma said with a nasty smile. "The baby bird's first flight, huh? In that case, should I show you some batting?"

I hesitated slightly, knowing exactly what the batter was implying. But a quick glance to the ridiculed pitcher from before ―who no longer looked so defeated― immediately helped me to make up my mind.

"Pfft, you can only show me if you actually manage to hit any balls!"

The senior's face immediately darkened as his smile became a tad scarier. "Alright, brat, you're not leaving the mound unless on a stretcher."

. . . I knew it was going to end up like this. Despairing slightly inside, I attempted to talk my way out of this.

"Hold on, I'm not even part of your school!"

Azuma's face immediately coloured as he growled. "WHAT?!"

Oh! That wasn't such a bad response. Perhaps I could get out of this . . . ?

"Sawamura-kun, this is a baseball field." Andddd my attempt to escape was blown into smithereens as Takashima pressed a baseball into my hand.

With another sweet smile (if she was not a ninja then she was a devil I tell you!), Takashima gestured to the mound. "Now that you've shot your mouth off, how about showing me what you could do?"

 _You saw my match, you know the extents of my prowess!_ But of course. First problem and first antagonist, check. First shounen hero kicks antagonist's butt incident, now under-way!

. . . Yeah, _right_.

"Hurry up and get changed!~" I resisted the urge to sob as I tightly gripped the baseball in my hand. How had this even became my life? Why did I even agree to come here again?

"Hehe, now isn't _this_ interesting?" A new voice cut in. Tensing slightly at the intrusion, I turned around to see glinting glasses before my vision cleared and I was left staring at . . .

"Rei-chan, is it okay if I catch for this guy?"

. . . Whoa, wait up. Pause, _baaaack_ up. If I remembered correctly, the person who first offered to catch for Sawamura Eijun was the genius catcher, the whole reason Eijun elected to go to Seidou in the end . . .

"HEY MIYUKI! First Years shouldn't butt in where they don't belong!"

. . . Miyuki Kazuya.

I stared at the boy, who could have been a perfect cosplay of the character in the manga. Brown hair styled in that special way, sports glasses balancing on his nose, and even that grin that played on his lips. _This_ was my favourite character in the manga? This was the boy I had read fanfictions about, the one I drew fanart for and gushed over?

This was Miyuki Kazuya?

"Ha ha ha! I'm soo _ooo_ sorry!" The bespectacled brunet laughed as he lazily cocked his head. Takashima actually looked flabbergasted as Miyuki casually threw another baseball into the air. "But Azuma-san, seems like lately, you've been something of a big mouth . . ."

Giving his audience a definitely fake sweet smile, Miyuki continued. "You play like a _little kid_ , but I think its great you want to recapture that _youthful_ spirit!"

. . .

"WHY YOU―"

The area erupted into complete pandemonium as curses began to fill the air. I . . . tried to not let my despair show as I looked to the skies for guidance. Why did the so-called 'genius catcher' just _have_ to needle my opponent like that? Looking back at the my new battery partner, I was surprised to see him already staring at me, even as he began putting on his equipment. Takashima also left her place beside me as she ducked by Miyuki to speak some words I wasn't privy to.

A few minutes later, I had changed into one of their spare uniforms they had provided. Fully stretching out my limbs, I bit my lower lip nervously as I tried to remember what had happened in the story.

Obviously _something_ had happened, since Eijun had made the decision to go to Seidou. But what exactly had happened here? What happened in the first chapters? What did Eijun do, what was _I_ supposed to do?

. . . And why hadn't I paid more attention to the manga? All my memories about chemistry wasn't going to help me here!

"Okay kid," my opponent said beside me as he arrogantly tilted his head back. "If you grovel, I'll let you off for now . . ."

Turning around, Azuma gave me a very intimidating smile. "But once you get onto that mound, there's no escape."

Just for a moment, as I stared at this scary upperclassman's face, I wanted to bolt. I may have his name, I may have his looks, but I was _not_ Sawamura Eijun. I was just someone who liked my friends, someone who enjoyed baseball and loved the violin.

This school ―Seidou― had nothing to do with me. I didn't need to go here, and I didn't _need_ to be shuffled to the side as a relief pitcher. I could be happy with my friends, I could enjoy baseball as my small hobby.

But . . . was that what I really wanted?

"Hmph," I said snobbishly, turning my head to glare at the buff teen. "You mean there won't be any escape for you!"

Standing up fluidly and moving to the mound, I swung my throwing arm in an effort to loosen it. Ready or not, going to Seidou or not, I wasn't going to lose to this arrogant nincompoop who didn't even treasure his teammates. Catching Miyuki's eyes, I stared at him firmly before the guy broke into a smirk.

Absent-mindedly, as I kicked my leg up and began going through a few warm-up pitches, I wondered if this was going to be the start of my story.

* * *

 **AN: Ahh, I lied. Chapters will probably be around this length. I think it'll take me much longer if I wanted to do the 5k chapters I had wanted to write before.**

 **I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! We'll get more onto the plot in the next one~ Please leave a comment with your thoughts if you have any; I would love to know what you think of this story!**


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